


Wide and Narrow Paths

by Tabbyluna



Category: Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magika | Puella Magi Madoka Magica
Genre: Angst, Christian Character, F/F, Religion, Religious Guilt, Sort Of, gay christian, late teens, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:22:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23834548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tabbyluna/pseuds/Tabbyluna
Summary: On Sundays, she still made her way to Church. Even though she knew she could never be a real part of the congregation.
Relationships: Miki Sayaka/Sakura Kyouko
Comments: 2
Kudos: 26





	Wide and Narrow Paths

**Author's Note:**

> This was kind of inspired by me binge-watching Say Goodnight Kevin, and thinking about my faith. So have some LGBT+ Christian overthinking because I can't go to Church. Joy.

On Sundays, she still made her way to Church, although she wasn’t a real part of the congregation or anything. And that was for a multitude of reasons.

For one, she never had the right clothes to show up in. She would stick out like a sore thumb wearing a ratty, unwashed sweater and short shorts in a sea of neat, modest people. And standing out was out of the question when she wanted to remain as invisible to other people as she could. For another, being a real part of the congregation would only invite well-meaning Church-goers to ask her questions about her past. Where her parents were, what she was doing to take care of herself, who she was currently staying with. And quite frankly, she didn’t want to so readily give those answers to such people. People who were sure of their faith. Who were happy with their faith.

So she stayed outside of the church buildings, listening in on the sermons. She did not have a Bible with her, but she paid as much attention as she could to those verses. And when they prayed together, she prayed alongside them. Before the congregation left, during the postlude, she would make her escape. Now, she was free to spend the rest of her Sunday however she wanted. 

The first thing she would do was head over to the marketplaces. Inspect the food, searching through it all carefully. She made it a point to only steal what she needed. Stuff which a regular person who had the money would avoid. Boxes of cookies and Pocky where the corners were bent and ruined, fruits which were slightly bruised or overripe, canned drinks with dented containers. No one would miss those things. Especially if she only took what she needed. She had gotten quite good, though she’d admittedly always been quite gifted in this area.

After she got her lunch, she would head back home. It was best to not stick around too long, lest anyone found you to be suspicious looking. And there, she would enjoy her meal. But she usually kept a little extra box of food around. Which she didn’t used to do, but hey, routines change.

And so she went on to the next part of her routine. The part where she headed back to the main city area again. She couldn’t quite remember when, but she recalled passing by some girl on the street being told that she couldn’t have any dinner, all because she did poorly on a test. And though she wanted to brush it off and mind her own business, she just couldn’t. The thought of an empty stomach just haunted her too much. So she learned where the girl lived, and where her bedroom window was located. And now on Sundays, she would sneak to her house, carefully climb up a long pipe, and then place a box of cookies by the windowsill. All just in case something like that ever happened again. It would be a shame if that kid went hungry. 

Then the witch hunt would commence. She would roam the city, finding witches to kill. After she had gotten her share of grief seeds, she would head back home. 

It was just routine to her. Sunday night, spent alone in the city with no one near her side. A lone ranger, a drifter, alone in a world all too happy to forget her. Walking around, she often found the lights from the buildings shining and blurring before her, and it made her envious to think about it. There were hundreds of families tucked away within those apartments. Most of them were comfortable, most of them were safe. The children in those families were certain of their routine, certain that the next day would be Monday and they would go to school and get bored by the classes. No doubt, they probably had their own battles they needed to fight. But Kyoko’s battles involved her being cold, tired, hungry and dirty. Without a family or certainty in her life.

Kyoko tried to not be envious of the people in those apartment buildings. It wasn’t easy.

She often had a lot of time to think, being by herself. But it wasn’t all just about the city and the families within them, the people who she was supposed to be protecting. Sometimes, her thoughts would drift towards the events of the day before, Saturdays, when Sayaka would come over to her place. 

*****  
They admittedly got off to a rocky start. But over time, they just sort of… learned to accept each other’s presence. There was still vitriol in the beginning, and spite, and competition. But one day she kissed Sayaka on the lips - she couldn’t remember why, maybe it was to stop her from panicking - and the rest was history. Those Saturday nights would begin with them meeting each other during their witch hunts. Once they finished off a witch, they would call it a night, and Kyoko would invite Sayaka back to her place.

And she would always accept. Always.

On the stairs, in the pews of the old, decrepit Church, they would kiss. Kyoko often led and initiated, but over time Sayaka grew in confidence. And she enjoyed those sessions. The pressure on her lips, the bittersweet taste of Sayaka’s mouth, the biting and the chewing on her lip and their teeth accidentally knocking against each other. She loved the pressure Sayaka had when she sat on her lap. The smell of her shampoo - blueberry - was always intoxicating. And as they grew bolder and more comfortable with each other, their hands began to move and explore each other. Pressing their palms against each other’s clothes, they would feel each other's curves, slip their hands under each other’s shirts, try to unclip the other’s bra straps…

And sex was always where she drew the line. They had both kissed each other in more ways than she could count. She had played with her hair and played with her lap and teased Sayaka by playing with her bra straps and the seams of her underwear. And they had stripped for each other. Removed their shirts, removed their shorts. They helped each other out of their underwear once. But… she couldn’t bear to go further than that. And then she would apologise to Sayaka, both for promising something she couldn’t deliver, and for the shame of not being ready. And Sayaka, goody two-shoes that she was (not that that was a problem), would pat her on the shoulder and say that it was alright and get dressed again. But Kyoko knew that she was running out of patience. So even though Sayaka returned next week, a part of her feared that she wouldn’t return.

But she always did. Kyoko often joked that this sort of loyalty would probably get her scammed someday, but Sayaka would only roll her eyes and draw her into another kiss. In all honesty, she was always grateful for her presence. And she always hoped, deep in her heart, that she didn’t test Sayaka too much.

And so it went on. They continued kissing, making out, stripping, and stopping. For a while, this was their routine, despite the fact that Kyoko could sense Sayaka’s ever growing impatience while she was still far from ready. It was… embarrassing? Guilt-inducing? She wasn’t quite sure how to describe how she felt about her hesitance. It was a crappy feeling, but she couldn’t quite pinpoint which crappy feeling it was.

Once, they were doing their usual thing. Kissing with opened mouths. Lips pressed against each other, wet with each other’s spit mixing together. Sayaka had her hands on her shoulders, and they slowly moved down, feeling her curves, until a hand landed on the pew, while another pressed into her chest. She pressed her palm against her twice, so they broke up the kiss. Kyoko looked at Sayaka carefully, carefully examining her half-lidded eyes and red lips. “Kyoko?” Sayaka asked.

“Hm?”

“I’ve… gone online a little. And started researching a bit about Christianity,” she said, as she nuzzled up against Kyoko’s cheek. Kyoko hummed, to denote that she was listening.

“And I’ve been hearing about how Christians here in Japan are all really devout people. Far more devout than some other parts of the world,” she said. Kyoko bit her lip. Was she going to lecture her about something now? It wouldn’t be the first time, but Sayaka never brought up her faith in the past. It made sense, Sayaka didn’t have any ties to the Church whatsoever. So she could only wonder why she was bringing it up now. “And I read up a little more, and I found out somewhere that apparently you’re all not supposed to engage in same-sex relationships.”

Ah, so that was what it was about. Kyoko had hoped that she would never have to explain herself in regards to this. She could never really find a good answer for her problems. In her life, she had heard a lot of different interpretations of the same holy book. Priests, preachers, foreign pastors, people on the street trying to proselytise. She went wherever the witches took her. And so she ‘went’ to a lot of different Churches over the years. And for ages, she wanted a good answer for this aspect of her, what she was supposed to do with it. But no one had a fixed answer. She was never quite sure who told the truth.

“Never mind that.” And she started to nibble on her lip again. But Sayaka pulled away, this time an irritated, slightly disapproving look on her brow.

“I just want to know some things, that’s all. Get to know you a little more. If we aren’t going to make this relationship completely physical, then at least we can talk about things like these.” There was a seriousness in her tone. One which had not previously been there. 

Kyoko knew that there was probably no point arguing. “Right then. What are your questions?”

“Do you… did you know Christians weren’t supposed to do things like this?” She asked.

Kyoko wrapped an arm around her tighter as she considered her answer. “It’s a complicated issue. People do talk about this, there are a lot of different interpretations. A lot of Christians don’t approve, but some do. And honestly, this is between me and God.”

Sayaka nodded, her brows knitted and her lips pursed. As if she really was trying her best to understand something unfamiliar. “Right. I have another question though.”

“Shoot.”

“Why do you still go to Church even though you know most people wouldn’t accept you as you?”

And that was when Kyoko kissed her again. To shut her up. “I would really rather not talk about it now,” she whispered against her mouth. And this time, Sayaka allowed her to kiss her. Allowed her to open her mouth and push her tongue into her mouth. Allowed their teeth to collide into each other. Allowed Kyoko’s fingers to tangle up her hair as she pressed against her head. 

It was getting late, and Sayaka needed to head back home. Studying for entrance exams the next day and all. Kyoko supposed that was a benefit to not going to high school. No stress like that to weigh her down. That night though, when Sayaka left, she felt more lonely than she usually would. 

As she laid down to sleep for the night, she stared up at the night sky which stretched out before her, the crescent moon in the sky, the few stars which were visible in a light-polluted city. In Church, she was taught that God created those great cosmos, and that despite it all, he cared enough to value someone as insignificant, as invisible to the world as her. 

She greatly wanted to believe that. That belief had gotten her through some hard times. While she knew of Christians who had renounced their faith after particularly hard times, she knew in her heart that she couldn’t. Over the years, she had grown far too attached to her faith to renounce it. 

Despite that, it’s been a long time since she truly felt passionate and empowered by her faith. When she was younger and more naive, she was truly on fire. Willing to be a warrior for the good of the world. But now, she was too jaded for that. Her heart had hardened. The world wouldn’t be fixed by the contributions of one girl alone. Not even if she had the power of God on her side. Which, even though she still clung onto her faith like an old security blanket, she sometimes felt she didn’t even have.

Her current lifestyle would have scandalised her younger self. With its theft and envy and her caving into her lust. But sometimes she felt like she didn’t have much of a choice. Churches talked about how all things were possible with Christ. And she supposed, in theory, that meant she could change. But change into what?

Kyoko knew that she was in a rut. But over time, the rut had become comfortable. It felt like a medium between two places which she wanted to be a part of. But if she were to fully become a part of either world, it would only lead to her denying another important part of her. It was why she was fine kissing Sayaka, but she drew the line at sex. Though, she did want to do it. And she knew Sayaka definitely wanted to too. Maybe because this place was an old house-church. It’s been years since anyone came to worship, and sex would be far from the most evil thing this building had ever seen. Not when this building had seen murder. But she still couldn’t bring herself to do it. And she hated how she was so wishy-washy.

That night, she did two things. The first thing she did was that she made up her mind on something. If she were ever going to have sex with Sayaka, she was going to save up and find a nice hotel to do it with her. And then once she made that decision, she turned back to the sky. The endless, boundless heavens. She prayed that somehow, God would have mercy on her, and understand why she did all of the things which she did.

**Author's Note:**

> They did say to turn your pain into art. So I guess that's what I'm doing here.


End file.
